Storm & Fire: Brothers Under The Sun
by SixNewAdventures
Summary: A year after his adventure with the humans, now safely back with his herd, Spirit sired two colts; one brown and one yellow. One strove to take on his father's legacy and make it better. The other strove to find his own destiny. But they're always connected, because in the end, storm and fire aren't so different from each other.
1. Prologue

Storm &amp; Fire: Brothers Under The Sun

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Prologue

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Storm and fire. Fire and storm. They are strong, wild, untamed. Two elements that are so different, yet have so much in common.

The actual story began a few years ago, when I was captured by the humans, and still managed to escape with the help of one. I had gone away a captured horse, but came back free, full of pride and with a new outlook. Yeah, that story never got old, did it?

But that had only been the first chapter, as I would soon come to realize.

A year after I returned to my herd, my mate, who had been named Rain by the human Little Creek, fell pregnant. Before I knew it, she had given birth to two foals; one brown, and one yellow. It had been my first taste of parenthood, and I finally understood what it actually meant. Both of them were certainly a handful, and would always get in trouble no matter where. Still, they managed to charm the hearts of even the most stoic old stallion. Yes, they were our pride and joy.

But, it was not to last.

A season after their birth, and unexpected storm hit our homeland. The horses were evacuated to safety, but I finally realized that my colts were in trouble; they had been left behind. At the insistence of my mate, I ran back to find them caught in the eye of the storm.

I had never really experienced fear before. Okay, that was a lie; I had, once. I can still remember how scared I felt when I thought that Rain would not make it out alive after being shot and falling off a waterfall. But never once had I experienced it with the different elements. I understood a storm. It was wild, untamed and could not be held down. Usually, it was just a strong wind, and usually it was harmless if necessary precautions were taken. I had seen many storms in my life. But I was never afraid of them, ever.

But that was about to change.

For the first time in a long time, I felt fear claw at my heart. I could feel its everlasting presence, pulling at my strings to get me to head back. But I was unwilling to listen. My two colts were in the eye of that storm, and I was never going to stop until they were both safe and by Rain's side.

So, I rushed in myself, desperately calling for them over the howling wind. The wind was harsh today, and like a cougar, it bared its fangs and attacked, whipping past my legs with greater and greater force. It was all I could do to stand my ground. Like the storm, I was also a wild creature, and more importantly, I was a father.

I eventually caught sight of them by the river, and that's when the actual dread crept in. No one knew it better than I; rivers and storms did not mix well.

Indeed, fueled by the fury of the storm, the river was in an equally wild state, thrashing its waves along the banks, taking everything in its hold down with it into the murky depths. It churned and swiveled uneasily, waiting for its next victim. And unfortunately for me, the next victims were my two colts.

I let myself be overtaken with rage and fatherly over protectiveness. I reminded myself that these were _my_ colts. No one could hurt them or even touch them; not if I had anything to say about the matter.

I do not really recall what happened afterwards, but I do know that I ended up seeing one of my colts falling prey to the rivers deathly embrace. And as much as it pained me, I still had one more colt that needed me, and I had to tend to him. These had been my last thoughts as I watched my eldest colt washed away down the rapids.

I do not really know what happened to him, whether he survived or did not make it. But ever since that day there was an emptiness in all our hearts, for we all sensed the absence of one of our family.

Still, we were in the wild, and in the wild, you could not stay in the past. So, with a heavy heart, I turned my attention to my surviving son, teaching him all I knew and all I could. I poured my heart and my soul into him, with the hopes that, one day; he would make it where his brother couldn't.

But to this day, I still wonder what had become of my lost colt. I wondered whether I could've been faster and whether that would've made any difference. However, life goes on, and so must you.

We could only hope for the best, because hope was all we had left.

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**A/N: Hey guys, long time no see.**

**Oh, and MERRY CHRISTMAS!**

**I still have my Lion King story to work on, I know, but this was a very recent idea that I was confident about enough to put it down in words.**

**If you can't deduce, this prologue is from Spirit's perspective. Chapter 1 onwards will be from a third-person point of view.**

**Hope you like it. Oh, and the cover for this story was made by me!**

**Please read and review.**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

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The young buckskin stallion galloped across the plains, racing after the same eagle that had provided companionship for his father. But, in his opinion, it wasn't as much as companionship as it was a challenge!

In that sense, he was different from his father. He raced the eagle not because he loved it, but because of a desire to win. He wanted to beat it as easily as his father was always able to. The first time he had actually _seen_ it in action had been when he was just a colt. Seeing the grace with which his father galloped, and the ease with which he was able to surpass the eagle had sparked something in him. Ever since then, running had not become just a passion; it had become an _obsession_!

It all sparked from the simple desire to be better than his father. His father had become a legend among the horses for coming back even when he had been caught by humans. He wanted to do something like that; something of that caliber. He wanted to be like his father. No, he wanted to be _better_.

He had come a long way from a tiny colt that had to struggle to keep up with his father. No, he would do what his father had done, but with even greater achievements. He could race the eagle with the same grace his father used, maybe even better.

Though this seemed like a pretty trivial topic to be obsessed about, the truth was, it meant a lot to the young stallion. The very fact that running was ingrained in his blood made it all the more important to him to do something like this. He had completely committed himself to this task, slipping away from the herd every spare second he had to simply run with the wind.

But now, now was different. He was no colt, not anymore. He was now an adult, young, strong and fierce. He could take on ten cougars if he wanted to, maybe even a bear. Yes, he was really on top of his game, and that gave him an extra burst of confidence.

He neighed to the eagle, calling to it to give him a challenge; to show him its true speed. The eagle called down to him, accepting his invitation with a slightly amused call. But he didn't think much of it; the very fact that the eagle had responded to him was enough to ignite the fire inside of him.

He pushed his legs harder, pulling the ground from underneath him, and using it to propel himself forward. With perfectly timed movements, he almost glided across the grassy plains. Any onlookers would have right away mistaken him for his father.

As he continued to run, his speed began to increase, pulling him directly under the eagle's shadow. Seeing that, the eagle seemed to put on a burst of speed; in no condition was it ready to lose to such an arrogant, overconfident young horse. But that had been just what the stallion had been waiting for, as he mimicked the eagle and spread his legs wider, making his stride even larger. This special little move pulled him right in front of the eagle's shadow, overtaking the eagle itself.

Neighing in victory, he met the eagle on a hill, rearing up to greet it. Despite the fact that he was pretty arrogant, one of the first things his father had taught him was to thank his competitors. And just like any good son, he held up his father's teachings, and thanked the eagle for racing him. It flew around him, begrudgingly accepting the fact that father and son were way too much alike.

When he finally set down, he heard the clopping of hooves behind him. He turned around to see the one horse who had actually been with him his entire life; the brown and white mare, his mother.

The look on her face told him that she had seen the whole thing, and though she slightly disapproved of his overconfident act, she was proud of her son. She nuzzled him when he ran over to greet her, and led him back to the herd, where his father was waiting.

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The Lakota camp was bustling with activity. Well, it always was, so this was nothing new to the horses that grazed nearby to see their humans all in a rush like that.

Out of them, one particular Lakota was struggling to lift three boxes at once, and was trying to move them from one side of the camp to the other. Realizing that he may have taken on a bit too much, he set the boxes down and wiped his forehead, cringing at the amount of sweat that had gathered.

_So much sweat for such a measly task_, he thought.

"In over your head again, Little Creek?" an old woman nearby asked, chuckling softly.

"Um, not really," he said awkwardly. "I'm just, um, taking a break, that's all."

The old woman laughed. "You young ones are always so stubborn, huh? No wonder you get the job done."

He laughed a little. "Well, I have to get going." He bid her goodbye and returned to balancing all three boxes again.

He had barely made it seven yards when he had to set the boxes down again, panting and puffing. Usually, this would bring the laughter of everyone at the camp, but with everyone so busy, his presence was easy to miss.

Just as he contemplated using a pulley, he heard the familiar clop of hooves. He would know that clop anywhere, of course. It wouldn't be fair for him not to know his own horse's clop after all this time.

He turned around to see a particular brown stallion coming up to him. "Ah, you're here to make fun of me, aren't you?" he teased.

The horse grunted, gesturing with his nose to the boxes and to the rope hanging all around the camp.

"You want to drag these boxes, huh?" Little Creek asked. The horse grunted eagerly.

Little Creek smiled. "Well, I can't carry them all the way, so I guess it wouldn't hurt to accept your help."

The horse snorted as if to say, _no kidding_.

Little Creek then got to work pushing the boxes to specific places. This wasn't very hard because it lasted for so little time. And he couldn't deny that he had the help of the horse, whose huge weight just made things go faster. Once the boxes were appropriately placed, Little Creek headed over to a nearby tent to pick up some rope from the ground. Making his way back to the horse, he put a loop around his neck, and tied the other end of the rope to the three boxes in such a way that he could use his full body strength to pull those boxes.

"All right, let's go." Little Creek said, spurring the horse forward with a pat on the shoulder.

The stallion pulled the boxes with extreme ease. To him, it was like the boxes were made out of thin air; he moved them so effortlessly so. In fact, within a few minutes their destination was reached, and Little Creek then got to the task of untying the rope from the stallion. Once the rope was removed, the stallion cantered a little way away, playfully whinnying.

Little Creek laughed as he went up to the stallion and stroked his long nose. "You're really the best, Thunder."

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**A/N: And that was Chapter 2. I'm not going to reveal much in these author's notes because I do not want to spoil the surprise. But I'm pretty sure all of you have guessed it by now.**

**Hope you like it.**

**Please read and review. **


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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He stood and watched the sun go down behind the mountains, painting the sky in different shades of red.

He loved times like this. This was just one of the many beauties of the wild, and he loved it. The fact that he belonged to this world further delighted him. He lived for times like these, and he had been doing it ever since he was just a tiny little colt. Especially on a nice autumn evening like this. He took a deep breath, letting the cool pre-winter breeze waft through his dark mane.

As the sun set and the night came up, he felt the chill start to creep into his skin. Grinning softly, he slowly decided that winter was much closer than it had been last year. Shaking his head, he followed a streak of red that ran across the sky. Following its path, he saw it go down behind the mountains beyond the range of the canyons.

Now, he had never been beyond the river that separated the two places. He had never wanted to go there, or even if he did, his parents never allowed it. Besides, it had never been an overwhelming desire for him to see what was over there, and he was a horse who followed that overwhelming desire in him. It had been what drove his race with the eagle and winning it, and it was the main reason he was heir to his father's post in the herd.

But now, as he stared beyond the darkening sky into the unknown, one thread of want crawled into his heart, the simple want of wanting to know what was out there. He narrowed his eyes with the vain intention of it helping him, but it didn't.

For the second time, he heard the sound of familiar hooves, but he had been so focused on his sight that he didn't hear it until it was too late. A deeper snort next to his ear spooked him, making him scramble back a bit, shaking himself back to reality.

The dun stallion looked at him inquisitively, trying to decipher what it is that had his son so drawn in that he was startled by his arrival. Following his son's gaze, his brown eyes widened slightly when he saw just what his son was looking at.

Turning back to his son, he gestured slightly with his head, silently asking him whether he was looking at what was beyond the horizon. The young horse sneaked a glance at it and then turned back to his father, snorting his refusal. The old leader then playfully shook his head, leading his son back to the herd, asking him to _stay_ with them for once.

But before he lost sight, the buckskin stallion sneaked one last glance at the forbidden unknown.

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As he and the other horses slowed down, they came up upon the hill near the Lakota village. They were rewarded with the beautiful view of the sun setting behind the mountains.

The brown horse felt Little Creek straighten up and adjust himself slightly on his back, so he could get a better view over the horse's head. The other Lakota tribals also relaxed when they saw the beautiful scene. One of them let out a low whistle. "That's something you don't see every day," he said appreciatively.

Little creek nodded. "But, we only get these while we're here."

"This belongs to us." Another one said. All the others looked at him. "I mean, practically only we get to see views like this, right?" he clarified awkwardly. The Lakotas laughed in unison.

In the meantime, the brown stallion Thunder fixed his blue gaze towards the canyon.

It wasn't the first time he had seen something like this, oh no. He had been witness to more than three years worth of beautiful sunsets, but still, a sunset like this? He had only seen it once. And where? When he was back with his family as a colt.

He hadn't forgotten anything about his childhood, despite the fact that he had a new family now. He loved Little Creek and was loyal to the Lakota till the end. But still, that didn't mean that he had forgotten his family. He hadn't forgotten his mother, whose presence had been with him all throughout his early days. He hadn't forgotten his father, whose wisdom stuck with him till now. He hadn't forgotten his grandmother, whose company made a significant impact on his life.

And most importantly, he hadn't forgotten his brother. His brother had been his constant companion even before he had opened his eyes, and that close bond had carried on into their colt years. In fact, the only time they had been separated was when that storm hit.

A worried neigh beside him brought him out of the past. He turned his head to look at the horses looking worriedly at him. One of them, a dark bay, neighed softly, asking him if he was okay. Even among the Lakotas, it was common knowledge that Thunder had been a wild horse before Little Creek found him and took him in.

Thunder had been given his name since according to Little Creek, he "looked like a Thunder" to him. Whatever, the name had stuck, and now that was all he would answer to.

One of the younger horses nudged him, asking if he was ready to move on. At the same time, Little Creek patted his neck, telling him to get back to the village, which Thunder was very happy to do.

But before he lost sight of the scene, he turned around to have one last glimpse of it, and let one thought sneak into his heart: what was his family doing now?

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**A/N: Sorry for the really short chapter, guys, but I feel like it might come out forced, and that's something I don't believe in.**

**If you're enjoying the story though, please let me know.**


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